Spared
by Iorhael
Summary: AU. Casey is taken by the faculty. Not to be converted, yet. The faculty has their own reason. Rated for violence. No slash.


**Spared **

"_Oh you'll go...if I have to tie you to the desk myself, you'll go."_

Casey froze, shutting the bedroom door, shudders creeping down his arms and his spine.

_No!_

His heart beat violently as he recalled how they had _claimed_ Nurse Harper. Casey had not understood what was happening. The nurse's eyes had been vacant and dead after Coach Willis spurted something into her ear. But then – she was alive _again_, looking more vigorous, much more vibrant than the sneezing woman she had been. Was she faking it? But which one? The dead-eyed body, the sick lady, or the refreshed, brand new persona?

Casey's body shook. One thing was sure: he would not go back to his school, no matter what his father did to him. Or the faculty could just kick him out of the place, which would be even better.

As Casey rushed to the computer – no Internet? Fine – his mind drifted to the thing he found on the football field, to Mr. Furlong – and to Zeke. That one-of-a-kind classmate had managed to identify the new species. Perhaps… Yeah. Well, Casey did not want to let hope blossom and soar in his heart. Zeke had never even acknowledged his existence. But in this case, somehow Casey felt he could count on that older boy…if he had to.

Yup. He had to leave, to go to Zeke – even if he didn't know where on earth Zeke's house was. Perhaps Delilah could help him.

His eyes unfocused, Casey typed a farewell note to his parents, letting his fingers decide what to say, his mind too occupied with his next move. He mindlessly clicked _OK_ at the print dialog, grabbed his blue jacket and slipped out of the window. Quietly, yes. He could do that--closing the window behind him, creeping backwards down the slanting slope of the roof and hopping down to the ground almost without a sound.

He smiled in silent gratitude to his father who had kept the grass so green and bushy. Then suddenly he sensed something move from the corner of his eye. Was it his father? But Casey would never find out, for suddenly a heavy, blunt object hit him hard at the back of his head. He was spared a short moment to moan softly before plummeting soundlessly to the ground.

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A swift, light kick landed on his side and Casey grunted, attempting to roll over, but something hit his body. Another blow – this time much more violent – landed on his stomach. Casey convulsed, his eyes jerking open as a silent scream came helplessly from his parted lips. Again he tried to move but then realized what had burdened him -- his arms were slung back and tied at the wrists. He later found out that a length of rope also secured both of his ankles.

Casey stopped struggling, urging himself to calm down as he lay motionless on his side, the chill of the floor seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to hide his fear, it still flickered through his eyes, while the one kicking him sneered and even chortled heartlessly.

"I'd love to chase you, Casey," Coach Willis blurted out. "Too bad you can't run away now."

Casey's eyes widened. So he had been captured by a man -- who seemed to be a man -- but he knew this one was no longer human. The boy caught a movement behind Coach Willis and recognized Mr. Furlong and the principal. Casey's breaths hitched. He could not hold back a whimper as he looked up. _That's it_, he thought. _There'll be no way out now. Everything's over._ His eyes clenched shut in despair.

"Hey, what are you thinking?" Casey heard wonder in Mr. Furlong's voice. "We won't kill you now, son. Or rather, we won't _turn_ you into us yet."

Casey's lids squeezed even tighter. He shook all over.

"Your _teacher_ is right, you know," said Furlong mockingly.

He was forced to open his eyes as his hair was gripped fast.

"Are you frightened, Casey?" asked Coach Willis, disturbingly gently.

"P – please."

"I asked you, are you frightened!" The coach was barking hard now and he rattled Casey's hair, actually pulling some strands out of his scalp.

Casey nodded in dread.

The older man smiled contentedly. "That's what we need now, Casey. Your fear. Your suffering. Your feeling of being alone, abandoned."

Casey stiffened at the coldness in the coach's voice and the horrendous things he was saying. _They're all monsters_.

"We want to bring people here before converting them…into us," Willis continued dispassionately. "We want to show them how it feels _not_ to be us, and now we have the most perfect example. You."

That was the cruelest thing Casey had ever heard. They would not simply take him, but rather torment him before their final, horrific move.

Mr. Furlong stepped forward into Casey's wild stare.

"Our point is, Casey, well, we're sure anyone would choose to be like _us_ instead of like _you. _I mean, gosh, I think even your parents would think twice. You've given them quite a hard time, you know."

Casey choked and started to struggle earnestly against his bonds. _They can't touch his parents. They just can't!_

"Leave my father and mother alone!" he screamed, his throat raw and rasping. "You – you…I will _kill_ you all if you DARE to touch them! I will! You'll be…"

He was viciously backhanded as laughter roared around him.

"_You_ will not be able to do a thing!" shouted Coach Willis as he drove his fist into the wretched captive's jaw. Casey began to see stars. Then a string of heavy kicks made him almost gag with nausea, until finally he returned to oblivion.

Coach Willis roughly tied a piece of cloth between Casey's lips, cutting them in the process, and then the three left the boy alone in the dark.

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When he came to, Casey made an effort to check out the room but he eventually sighed in defeat. It was no use. He knew he was at school, the surroundings were familiar enough. The smell was familiar too but the room was too murky to identify, or maybe he was too groggy to think clearly. He suspected it might be Mr. Furlong's back room from the thin hint of chemical substances in the air. Casey shivered a little at this recognition. Even if those human-disguised creatures decided to spare him, he could still be killed, strangled by these poisonous vapors.

Casey could only lower his head to the floor, his head throbbing from the last assault, wrists and ankles hurting from the rope, and saliva dripping incessantly from a corner of his torn lips. Closing his eyes, he let out the shuddering breath that had been knotted up in his chest. He felt despondent, scared, not knowing what to anticipate. _Would his life soon be over?_

And for the second time his mind flew to Zeke, just before it drifted far from his control.

The night was unperturbed. Casey slept through it despite the discomfort and awoke when his body clock told him it was morning. Blinking away the stickiness from his lashes, Casey stirred a little. But soon impatience and annoyance got the better of him and he began to twist against his bonds, rocking sideways and crushing his tied hands in the process. He choked back a groan as he pounded his ankles against the hard tiles, hoping beyond hope that someone, anyone, would hear it. Who knows, maybe there were students in the classroom right now.

A creaking sound from the direction of the door froze Casey's blood. He almost did not believe it. Someone _had_ come. He trembled, praying it was not those creatures again.

But his prayer was not answered.

There were the two of them now, Coach Willis and Mr. Furlong, and they were not alone. One was holding a captive by the arm.

Casey's father.

Casey shrieked behind the gag and fought like he had never fought before. His father was squirming, too.

"Casey!"

Tears ran down the boy's cheeks. He should have guessed his father would go looking for him. And school was the most logical place. But Mr. Connor was nothing compared to the thing inside Coach Willis's shell. The creature kept him in a death grip, and leaning forward, he whispered not too quietly.

"You see how afraid your son is? Well, I can remedy that. _We_ can remedy that."

Then in a smooth motion, Coach Willis tilted Casey's father's head, and what Casey had witnessed with Nurse Harper was happening again.

The boy was oblivious to the gag around his mouth; his lungs sucked in air from the gaps between the cloth and his lips. And then he screamed, a choked, agonized, muffled screech that chilled the air, reverberating from one side of the room to the other.

At once Mr. Furlong was beside him, clouting his head so hard that it whirled to the side. Casey's caught his breath and retreated, crabbing his body like a frightened animal, going, going back, and pressing firmly to the wall. He could not stop the trembling as his eyes shifted wildly from his teacher to his father, who seemed to have just awakened from a long sleep.

Frank stared at Casey for a long time, tilting his head sideways. Finally, he spoke softly. "He'd fare better if he became one of us."

Mr. Furlong shot a glance at their new member. "You think so too, don't you? Now we all agree that being part of us is much better. But no, not yet. Casey must feel the worst of becoming a human before we convert him. He's troubled us too much."

Casey sobbed hard, an anguished cry escaping the dampening gag.

"And you," Mr. Furlong pointed at him, "you scream again, and the pain you got from your friends every day will be like a walk in the park."

Coach Willis and Mr. Connor simply sneered. Then Willis added, "you mean, he'd have to hold his tongue every time we bring people here? It'll be hard for him, huh?"

"That's the point," Mr. Furlong glowered toward Casey, pulling out a length of black, coarse material from his pocket. Casey recoiled even more into the hard, unyielding wall, shaking his head hysterically. _What will they do to me now? Oh, no. Please._

"Relax, kid." Mr. Furlong swathed the cloth over Casey's eyes and knotted it behind his head. "We might want to take you someplace else. We don't want any more trouble."

A sound close to a snivel reverberated in Casey's throat as he lost all hope.

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He had been captured shortly after dinner and now Casey assumed was nearing lunch. His fear had kept all other thoughts at bay but now he could not deny the stabbing pain from his stomach, growing stronger and stronger.

Casey huffed. His gaping mouth was dry from exposure to the air while his tongue rolled weakly, poking about the insides of his mouth and the cloth gag. He swallowed with difficultly, choking constantly, his throat muscles aching with misery. He wondered if the creatures ever ate as he tried to will himself to go back to sleep. Underneath the blindfold, he closed his eyes tightly, not knowing if it was day or night, or caring.

And he did not want to think about what Mr. Furlong told him. They could take him anywhere they wanted. Perhaps, he should just tell them to turn him now. That might be a lot better than being tortured like this. He did not need his _teachers_ to show him over and over how incredible their lives were. No one would be scared, they said. Everyone would be liberated from their burdens.

Casey sighed. It would be so easy to say yes to them…so easy.

Casey was slowly dozing off, his strapped legs slacking, breaths deep and steady. He would have looked rested and peaceful if not for the fastenings crowding his face. Once in a while Casey's legs jerked from the dreams – or nightmares – he was having.

Oblivious to his surroundings, Casey failed to catch a soft noise coming from the door latch. Several shadows moved stealthily across the room to Casey's spot, and some hands jutted out, pressing him firmly at his shoulders from both his sides. Someone squatted before the kidnapped boy and freed Casey of the gag, clamping a hand fast over the stiff mouth before Casey got a chance to scream.

Not thinking he could still react in surprise at someone grabbing him, Casey nevertheless bucked as the hand pressed hard against his mouth. His panic was mounting when warm fingers circled around his arms. His eyes widened behind the blindfold, trying in vain to catch a sight of his captors, anticipating in dismay the second when he was finally breached. _This was it! _His life was over!

But nothing came.

Instead of a living death, an urging whisper went into his ear.

"Casey, psst!"

Casey stilled at once. Could it be? _Zeke?_

"Mmm… zzkk?" he muffled behind the stifling hand.

The next thing he knew, his blindfold was taken away. Casey blinked, stars dancing before his eyes. His heart leapt up to his throat. This was really Zeke! Casey muttered something and his eyes shot pleadingly.

"Promise you won't scream or the teachers will return."

Casey nodded slowly. He also had recognized the two holding his arms: Stan and Stokely. But inside he wondered why they kept holding him so securely and – isn't it safe already for Zeke to let go of his mouth?

The bigger boy's hand was still in place as he fumbled into his jeans pocket. Casey gaped curiously. A _scat_. A powdered drug his friend sold at school.

But Casey did not do drugs and now it panicked him that Zeke was trying to drug him. _Why?_

Casey's breaths quickened and he began to struggle again, although not wanting to harm his friends.

"You're gonna scream, aren't you?" Zeke hissed. He tightened the hand on Casey's jaw and shook him slightly. "Be still, Casey. Please! And use it. We have to make sure you're not an alien already."

Casey shook his head violently. "What?" he hissed, twisting his mouth away for a second. "Alien? What're you talking…?"

Zeke pressed in harder, effectively cutting off Casey's protest. But then he frowned, as if trying to make a decision.

Casey compelled himself to calm down.

Slowly Zeke pulled his hand away. "That's it, Case," he nodded. "Easy."

"A – alien?" Casey croaked. His mouth ached from the gag and his throat was sore and parched. But he still cringed at the scat under his nose.

"Yes, Casey!" snapped Zeke impatiently. "The entire faculty has turned into aliens and now they're spreading it to the students."

And my father too, thought Casey bitterly.

Zeke nodded to Stan and Stokely, motioning them to release Casey.

"The three of us, plus Delilah and Mary Beth found out from Mr. Furlong."

Zeke untied Casey's ankles and Stokely helped him free his wrists. Casey frowned. _From_ Mr. Furlong? How? Was it why that teacher had not come to see him again? Had he died?

"But we have to make sure that you are still the real Casey," rephrased Zeke.

"Of course I am real," said Casey, exasperated. He rubbed his reddened wrists and groaned in pain.

Still, Zeke was not easy to convince. He kept probing with the scat. "Sniff this first." His voice was deadly serious.

"I never use drugs, Zeke," pleaded Casey.

Zeke's jaw tensed, and he reached behind his back.

Stokely gasped.

"Sniff it, or I will have to use this." There was no room for argument as Zeke moved his arm forward.

And then Casey saw it clearly. A gun. He cowered. He never thought Zeke would have the heart to threaten him like that.

"I – I will do it," he said weakly, inhaling the white powder with a grimace.

Nothing happened, of course, only it made Casey dizzier than he already was from the hunger. He swayed and leaned into the wall heavily, his eyes tightly shut.

"Oh my dear Case," Stokely sniffled, shoving Zeke aside and gathering her depleted friend into her arms.

Pulling him up to his feet, Stokely turned to Zeke. "Come on, Zeke. Let's bring him home."

fin


End file.
